Andalucian Village Life - diary of an expat in Southern Spain

Moving to a small Andalucian white village in Spain is quite a change from living in the capital of a Northern European country.
Laugh at my sometimes futile efforts and follow my observations and musings over the spanish way of life in a small village where life is still dictated by the harvest time of olives and almonds.
Becoming an expat close to the Costa del Sol can be interesting from an observers point of view.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Working out the man way!

What a weekend!

On saturday afternoon an evening I was in Coin for the SACAB Coín Spanish horseshow, which indeed deserves its own separate posting and maybe even a gallery when I get an gallery add-on sorted out for my blog. To watch those "Andalucian Pura Raza" horses was an absolute joy.

Sunday was man work day. We are in the process of building a corner sofa on our spanish terrace, and even though I am no builder, a helping hand was needed.

So girls, forget all about fancy workouts and paying for gym memberships. Do your workout the man way like I did. Carrying bricks from the bottom floor of our house up to the terrace on the second floor. Repeat said action about 30 times and you start regretting ever having offered a helping hand. Especially since it was 27 degrees on Sunday, and today my poor little office hands are suffering. Reforming your village house is no easy task.

I am starting to think I need a male alterego. So when I have to do jobs like this he takes over and comes out with stuff like "Alright mate, how is them bricks looking?". And I will swig down some beer and not care if a burb escapes my lips, 'cause I'm a labourer and I scratch my bollocks.The biggest problems seems to be to come up with a name for my male alterego. It can't really be the name of anyone I know already, and I want it to be a short name.

So far the following names have been excluded: Joe, Dave, Jim, Colin, Keith, Ben, Stan.